


Irisé

by Van_Nasa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Artist!Harry, Collector!Draco, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 10:34:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6371380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Van_Nasa/pseuds/Van_Nasa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is an artist and Draco is the collector of fine artwork. Harry's arse is indeed a fine piece of art. His other pieces are too of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There was a tumblr prompt begging somebody anybody to write this so I did.

His paintings were enchanting. Enigmatic. Abstract. They were beautiful. Evoking emotion in even the iciest of souls. They were sought after. More than well sought after. Many would sin for them and Draco Malfoy belonged to that category. A wealthy lover and collector of art, just like his mother, Draco Malfoy, longed to have a piece, just one piece of His soul and he could pass on happily. But as fate would have it, no amount of connections and networks he had could help him attain that priceless piece. 

You had to want something just enough to get it. Not too much. Not too little. And perhaps it seemed that Draco had never wanted those other pieces of art enough, before he saw It. It was the latest abstract by Him and Draco needed it. Iridescent it was, it’s name perfectly encompassing the painting. Draco loved it, it spoke to him. He supposed it was rather arrogant of him but, well, it was as though the artist had stroked his brush across the canvas with Draco in mind. The shadows between the lights and he knew that he had to have it. 

Despite desperately wanting the works from the elusive artist, Draco had yet to attend any one of his auctions because something always came up at the last minute, forcing his attendance elsewhere. And because of that, Draco had never seen Him before. At least not off the screen of his laptop. But this time, this time, Draco would attend. He cancelled all his appointments for the week and had his secretary inform every. Single. One. Of his clients that he would, under no circumstances, be available that week. No exceptions. He had his secretary inform his best friends, Pansy and Blaise, too. They rolled their eyes, but they understood, having known Draco’s obsession. They really thought it was a pity Draco had been called away every time he had made plans to go to an auction of His. 

And finally, when at last that fateful day arrived. Draco was ready. His heart pumped in anticipation. Dressed in his best suit and hair neatly coiffed. Draco took a deep breath and confidently walked into the auction room. He took in the sight before him, plenty of richly dressed upper-class society murmuring to each other in the gilded room, and snagged a flute of champagne from a passing waitress. It was everything he ever imagined it would be. Well, except for that man over there. The one seated on the sofa, laughing with, was that the Queen’s ambassador? Draco grimaced slightly. The Queen herself was a collector of art and it was rumoured that she had had an entire gallery dedicated to His art. Draco took a sip of the bubbly drink. No matter, he was prepared to pay millions for Irisé and he didn’t care if he was bidding against the Queen herself. Draco’s attention shifted back to the man and their gazes caught. It was Him. Draco inhaled sharply and sipped his champagne to hide his blush, it suddenly became vital that he attain that painting. He couldn’t explain the compulsion but he knew. He just knew, he had to get it. 

God, He was gorgeous. He was perfection. Draco felt himself stiffen for the man. He was wearing a white shirt splattered with paint and ripped jeans. Although everyone else in the room was wearing formal clothes—including Draco, he didn’t seem to notice at all. He lounged comfortably on that sofa by the stage, raven black hair properly messy and his shockingly green eyes lighting up his already attractive face. He looked like someone who didn’t know just how sexy he was, which turned Draco on more than it should’ve. Draco was getting that painting even if it was the last thing he did. 

***

“Going once! Going twice! And sold to Mr Malfoy! Congratulations Sir!”

It was over and Draco’s eyes were wide with shock. He won It. He had won the bid. And lost a few millions in the process, but he had done it. He’d finally gotten a piece of Him. Draco made his way to collect his treasure, heart pumping excitedly to get home and unveil what would now definitely be his most prized possession ever. He snatched another celebratory flute of champagne and downed it. Time to collect what was his. Draco made his way backstage where he was asked to go to collect the artwork. He was so distracted as he made his way there that he didn’t see the other person coming from the other direction. 

“So sorry,” Draco mumbled, steadying them both by placing his hands on Harry’s shoulder. The man just had the most emerald eyes and Draco was lost in them. Draco could smell Harry. He smelled just like art would if it had a smell at all — lovely and divine.

Draco and Harry stood there for what seemed like eternity but was actually only a few seconds. Until Harry broke the silence, coughing awkwardly and Draco let go, his mind already bemoaning the loss of heat from under his palms. 

“Um, Mr Draco Malfoy, right?” said Harry politely, blushing. “I’m glad that you’ve taken a liking to my painting.”

Draco smiled. “Please. Call me Draco,” he replied firmly. “And you’re welcome. Everyone has taken a liking to it. It is a beautiful piece.”

Harry smiled embarrassedly, running a hand through his already messy locks. “Apparently, yeah. Nice to meet you, Draco.”

“And I you.” Harry bit his bottom lip shyly and made to move away and Draco’s heart sank. He didn’t want this…interaction to end. Perhaps could find a way to enjoy the man’s presence a little longer. “Ah, Mr Potter. Could you possibly show me where to collect the painting before you go? I’m terrible with directions, I’m afraid. I mean, if it isn’t too much trouble of course.” Draco gave an embarrassed grin.

Harry blinked surprisedly. “N-no, not at all. I’d love to help you. This way.” He led them down a corridor and Draco followed, eyes straying to the denim clad arse in front of him. God, Potter had lovely buns. Draco wanted to sink his teeth into them. “We are here.”

Draco’s gaze snapped up to amused eyes and he coughed. “Right. Thank you so much, Mr Potter.”

“Call me Harry.”

Draco smiled. “Of course, Harry. Is there any way I can thank you? A coffee after this perhaps?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to trouble you.”

“It’s no trouble at all, Harry. Come on, just let me collect your masterpiece and then I’ll buy you a coffee. Sounds good?”

“Y-yeah. Thanks.” Harry blushed and Draco’s heart flipped in his chest. Harry was perfect.

***

They went for coffee after which Draco gave Harry his private cell number, for business purposes only of course. Not that Draco would be completely okay with Harry texting him all sorts of cute little messages. He would, of course, respond appropriately with his own cute messages. One must not stem the creativity of one’s favourite artist. 

And they went on more coffee dates together which turned into lunch dates so often that they were meeting nearly every day. It made Draco happy. He had something to look forward to and he absolutely delighted in making his secretary cancel all his lunch appointments just so he could see Harry, his clients could wait. His love life was the priority here. Not that he had one. Draco found himself abhorring the idea of being with anyone now that had Harry, but he was under no illusion that he and Harry were in that kind of relationship. It made him sad whenever he thought of how they couldn’t be together so he tried not to think about it. Until Harry admitted he had never gone clubbing.

“You’re telling me you’ve never gone to the pub for a night’s out?”

“Yeah. I mean, I never saw the need to, I guess.” 

Draco stared at Harry incredulously. “Well, guess I’ll have to take you then. Tell me, do you prefer male or female?” Up till now, they had never talked about sexual preferences and Draco found himself holding his breath. 

“I’m pansexual.”

“Oh. Okay. I’ll pick you up at eight.”

Harry blinked. “Uh, sure.”

***

Draco had his tightest jeans on and a white cotton shirt so sheer that if one stared hard enough, they would see his nipples. He supposed he should tone it down a little, so as not to scare off Harry, but Draco found himself wanting to impress Harry more. He grabbed his car keys and revved up the engine of his Lamborghini. He’d sent Harry home before so he knew where Harry lived. 

Draco pressed the doorbell and waited, his nervousness showing through the fiddling of his cuffs. This was different. Harry had never seen him out of formal wear before on account of them meeting while Draco was on self given break from work. The door opened to show Harry on the other side and Draco’s mouth dried.

“Is this, okay?” Harry asked uncertainly.

Draco wet his lips. “Yes. Perfect. You look amazing.”

Harry blushed, twin spots of colour high on his cheeks. “Thanks.”

Draco grinned. “Come on then, let’s go have the best night ever.” And Harry teased him for sounding like a One Direction song. 

***

They skipped the long line, walking to the front and Draco slipped the bouncer a few hundred dollar notes and pulled Harry into the club with him. 

“Come on, Potter,” he yelled over the pounding music. “What do you want to do first?”

Harry pointed at the bar and mimed a drink. Draco nodded and grabbed Harry’s hand, pulling him over to the bar. And then Draco persuaded Harry onto the dance floor and grinned as Harry tried to dance. It was by no means sexy but Draco was charmed. And not for the first time since they first met, Draco thought that Harry was perfect. 

“I need the loo,” Harry shouted. And Draco nodded, heading for the empty booth there to rest and wait for Harry. He sipped his cocktail and watched the gyrating bodies on the dance floor. The alcohol in his veins was making everything fuzzy. The seat of the booth dipped as a body sat down beside him and with liquid courage already in him. Draco, thinking it was Harry, wrapped an arm around the body and pressed his face into the man’s neck. This man smelled funny. He wasn’t Harry. Draco felt his gut sink. The man, taking Draco’s manhandling as a sign, tried to kiss him, but Draco pushed him away searching for Harry. 

Draco’s heart stopped when he saw Harry standing across, eyes wide in a shocked expression. No. Please, no. Draco scrambled up, uncaring of the man he pushed away. Harry’ s eyelids fluttered as he looked away and turned to leave. Draco gasped in panic. No! Harry was leaving. He couldn’t let Harry leave. Not without clearing this up. He pushed his way through the throngs of bodies, ignoring the exclamations of annoyance, and out into the night.

“Harry!” he cried out. “Harry, wait!” Draco ran past the queue, frantic in his search for Harry. He did not see the lone body pressed up against the wall of the alley, a hand covering the mouth afraid to let Draco hear him and find him. And then Harry ran in the other direction. He ran until he couldn’t breathe and he sat on the curb, forehead resting on his knees, not understanding the tears that kept streaming from his eyes. Harry swiped angrily at them. As a child, he often forced the tears that threatened to erupt down, for fear of getting hit by his Uncle even more than he had already been. When he had finally left that godforsaken place, Harry had let himself cry as much as he wanted to. All the years of repressed tears bubbling up to the surface. Now, occasionally, he let himself cry to complete an artistic piece. But Harry sat there by the road, until his tears trickled to a stop, and he realised how much he wanted to paint right now. Harry got up and looked around. There were no taxis and Draco had been his ride here. He began to walk. 

Draco was beside himself. Harry was gone and he’d fucked up so bad. He forced himself to stop for a moment and think. It would do no good to keep running around like this, it would be easier to get in the car and drive around looking for Harry. He went back to the Lamborghini. It had only been about two months since he met Harry, but Draco thought he would gift this car to whoever could give him back his Harry. He drove and Harry! Harry was right there! Not-quite-trudging with his hands in the pocket of his jeans and, Draco frowned, not very upset looking even though his eyes were red rimmed. Draco followed behind for moment wondering what to do. Harry didn’t seem to have noticed him yet and Draco’s lips curled slightly at the artist. He decided Harry had walked enough and if Harry was in his car, he couldn’t get out and then they could talk properly. 

He stepped on the accelerator and drove by Harry, windows wound down.

“Harry,” he called. “Get in.”

Harry blinked and turned to look at him, not stopping his brisk walk.

“Harry, come on. Get in, please? We need to talk.”

Harry looked away. “I’m busy, Draco. I need to get home.”

Draco didn’t realise the breath he was holding until Harry called him by his given name. “I’ll drive you home. Just get in, please?”

“You don’t understand.”

Draco shook his head in bewilderment. “Whatever I don’t get you can explain. Just please get in the car.”

Harry shook his head stubbornly. “No. You want to talk. I need to paint.”

What? Okay, never mind, Draco would play along. “I’ll drive you home so you can paint.”

Harry stopped at that. “You will?”

“Yes. I will, now will you please get in the car?”

Harry smiled. “Okay.” And Draco sighed in relief.

***

It was awkward. Draco didn’t know what to say but Harry didn’t seem to notice. He was staring out the window and humming softly under his breath, fingers twitching. Draco supposed it was because he wanted to paint. He didn’t know what to say and every time he tried to start a conversation, his throat closed up. In the end, he just gave up and drove them to Harry’s house and followed the artist into his studio and watched as Harry grabbed at seemingly randomly placed paintbrushes and paints and started painting. It was like a dream for Draco, watching The Harry Potter painting his new masterpiece in his home. 

By the time Harry was done, it was four in the morning and Draco had not slept one bit, refusing to stop watching. When Harry finally dropped his brushes and turned around, Draco was mesmerised by the sight Harry made. It was ethereal. Harry smiled and Draco’s vision tunnelled until all he could see was Harry. He stepped forward. Harry stepped forward. He stepped forward again and again until he was right before Harry. They were staring into each other’s eyes. Green into Grey and Grey right back into Green. And then Harry kissed him. Harry cupped Draco’s cheeks and kissed him. Draco froze for a second and then began to move. He pulled Harry to him by the waist and tipped the man back, using his height as leverage. Tongues clashing and exploring as the kiss turned from sweet to explosive desire. Draco let his want for Harry spill over his tight control, gently pushing Harry down onto the polished wood flooring of his studio. 

“Harry,” he murmured. “Harry.”

He unbuttoned his lover’s shirt and his own, running his palms over the lithe writhing body beneath him, grazing the small brown nipples that made Harry gasp. Draco pulled off Harry’s jeans, lips parting in lust when he found Harry bare underneath. Draco would not last long and he didn’t think Harry would either if the hard almost purple cock Harry had was any indication. 

“Please.” Harry whispered. Draco looked at Harry, whose eyes were half lidded but never breaking contact with his own eyes. Harry’s legs shifted wider imperceptibly and Draco understood. He wet his fingers with his saliva and pressed into Harry, the other tightening hard enough around Harry’s waist to leave bruises when Harry mewled and arched his back. “Please, Draco.” Harry could barely gasped that out and Draco removed his fingers. Harry was ready for him. He laced his fingers with Harry’s, the other hand holding his lover by the waist. Harry’s free hand was wrapped around the back of Draco’s neck and Draco pushed in. The ragged moan from Harry almost did him in and Draco rolled his hips. It was heaven. Draco was in heaven. He twisted his hips as he pushed in again, relishing the cry of pleasure from Harry. 

It was over too soon, the both of them already hard since Harry began painting. And they fell asleep on the floor, entwined in each other. Draco’s fingers still laced with Harry’s, and the other arm shifting to wrap around his waist and Harry’s arm around his shoulders, Draco still buried to the hilt in his Harry. 

Draco woke at dawn, unused to sleeping on hard ground. He picked Harry up in his arms and went in search of the bedroom which was conveniently on the same level as Harry’s studio. Draco supposed it was easier for Harry to paint when he got inspiration in the middle of the night. He tucked Harry in before crawling into bed with his lover and pulling Harry into his arms for a cuddle and more sleep. 

They awoke after noon, Harry’s snuggling into Draco’s chest waking Draco up. He smiled and pressed a kiss into Harry’s hair, rubbing his hands up and down Harry’s back. Harry awoke after that. They dressed and went out for breakfast-lunch before coming home for more sex. Draco delighted in how insatiable Harry was and proceeded to ruin that perfect arse as much as Harry begged him to. Harry was oh-so-cuddly after their bouts of lovemaking and Draco loved it. Loved being the one to make Harry like this.

He froze though, when Harry admitted that he previously was, until yesterday, a virgin through and though. 

“Really?” Draco was sceptical. “Nobody wanted to sleep with you?”

Harry blushed. “I had offers but they were from strangers.”

Draco gaped. “No girlfriends or boyfriends?”

Harry shook his head. 

“Wait. Don’t tell me I was your first kiss too?”

Harry flushed harder and Draco could feel the heat from Harry’s cheeks on his own skin. 

“No way.” Draco could feel Harry’s pout. He smiled, rubbing his cheek on Harry’s hair. “I’m glad I was first then.”

Harry lifted his head from the juncture of Draco’s neck to look at Draco. “Me too.”

***

One fine non-working day for only Draco and Harry — Draco was the boss he could whatever he wanted and Harry was self-employed anyway — the two of them were cuddling in bed (and possibly other things), Harry rubbed his nose on Draco’s in an eskimo kiss and murmured fondly, “You.”

Draco smiled. “Me.”

Harry laughed contentedly. “You are my masterpiece. So much more beautiful than any artwork I can paint and any artwork there is in this world. I love you.”

Draco’s heart skipped a beat. “I love you too.” As they proceeded to do other things again, Draco whispered into Harry’s soft skin. “Best pick up line ever.” And Harry’s laugh was cut off by a moan when Draco pushed in again. 

The End


	2. Inevitable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a little thing in my head about this and just had to add it. Enjoy! ♡

Draco was so, so very in love with his boyfriend, Harry Potter, world renowned artist and Draco’s soon-to-be fiancé, he hoped. It had taken months of planning. Of searching for the perfect ring and finally designing his own when he wasn’t satisfied with anything that anyone else had crafted. Harry deserved the best after all. 

Draco could easily list the top few things that Harry did, that made him just want to melt into a puddle and cover his boyfriend from head to toe in sweet kisses. He was just so in love. Being a businessman and a good one wasn’t the easiest thing. And Draco was an excellent businessman. He had so many fingers dipped into so many markets that he’d need his toes if someone were to ask ‘How many fingers?’ As a result, Draco often had to go for meetings and conferences that weren’t always in Britain, where Harry was. It gave him much anguish to be separated from his lover but he’d already done his best to send as many representatives as he could possibly get away with. Sometimes, he still had to leave though.

Harry, on his part, was always sweet and understanding about it. He knew Draco never liked to leave him alone at home but it couldn’t be helped. Draco always made it up to him with little gifts from abroad though. And though Harry didn’t care for them, he understood that money was Draco’s form of expression, just like art was his. Harry was always happy to receive Draco’s affection. Aside from the travelling, he was indeed an excellent partner.

Coming home was always Draco’s favourite part of the day. Because Harry had the strangest little quirks. Sometimes, he’d come home to Harry breathing on the floor-to-ceiling windows of their penthouse and drawing in the condensation. In the nude. Draco took him against those very windows that night, before ordering take out for dinner.

Harry also like to do yoga. In the buff too. Just the other night, Draco had come home to his boyfriend doing a split. He began stripping right away. But Harry refused to let him touch until he’d stretched into the downward dog and then warmed down. And then Draco was allowed to touch. And touch he did. Draco thoroughly enjoyed Harry’s bendiness in both ways. 

But Draco’s favourite thing to come home to, was Harry painting while waiting for him to get home. Naked, of course. Harry did nearly everything naked. It was very distracting and the reason Draco could no longer work from home too much. Harry painting always had Draco aroused with hearts in his eyes as he patiently watched. His boyfriend, of nearly a year now, painted while aroused. They really did have a lot of sex. And this time, when Draco came home to his boyfriend painting again, he was ready to change that. 

Draco watched as Harry added the finishing touches to the canvas before calling out softly.

“Harry.”

Harry turned with a blinding smile on his face. “Draco,” he said, and came to him with arms open. “I missed you so much.” Draco closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of Harry and paint. 

“Me too, love. So much.” Draco pulled back slightly to look in his boyfriend’s face. “Food? Or shagging first?”

Harry laughed, a bright beautiful sound that Draco wanted to scream at Harry to marry him right away. “Mmm. Maybe food. Then we can take our time to play.” 

Draco grinned. Harry was feeling frisky today. Excellent. “Anything for you, love.”

Harry got dressed and they went out. If they had ordered take out, they would have never had their food first. Dinner was simple and wonderful. Everything was wonderful with Harry. Harry made Draco the happiest man alive and Draco only hoped that he did the same for Harry. 

“Harry, I wanted to ask you something.” It was time to set his plans into motion. “I’m taking the rest of the week off.” Harry looked delightedly surprised and Draco heart swelled. “We should go out for dinner. At our favourite restaurant, tomorrow evening, I’ll call for a reservation. How does that sound?”

Harry smiled. “Why, Mr Malfoy, are you asking me on a date?”

Draco loved foxy Harry. “Indeed, my darling, I should love to pamper you so, the way you deserve to be.” It was but the truth that Draco spoke.

Harry’s cheeks had that delicious pink glow that Draco really loved too. “Ah, I’d love to, but— ” Draco almost panicked. “I’ve got an art gallery opening tomorrow night and I was hoping that you’d come as my plus one.”

Draco let out the breath he’d been holding in. Excellent, good plans were made to be modified anyway, Draco was still on track. “Of course, you needn’t ask, Harry. I’ll always come to your art galleries even if I’ve probably already seen them at home.” He smiled warmly.

Harry gave him a funny look as he chewed his food. But that was probably because he was chewing his food, so Draco dismissed it. 

*

“Potter! I swear to god, Potter! You will not be late to the opening! Dam— ”

“I’m here! And it’s my opening not yours.”

Draco rolled his eyes and gathered Harry in his arms, lips just a hair breadth away from his ear. “But you told me that I was your greatest masterpiece, no?”

Harry smacked Draco and stalked out. Draco couldn’t help laughing as he rubbed his chest which wasn’t even hurting from the smack.

*

They got there almost on time and Draco and Harry walked round the gallery, mixing with the other visitors and admiring Harry’s work. Draco particularly liked the one they were standing in front of. 

“Well, what do you think?”

“It’s beautiful,” Draco replied.

Harry huffed in mock annoyance. “The painting, Draco. Stop looking at me.”

“But, Harry, you’re beautiful.”

Shy Harry was lovely too, Draco thought.

*

It was time for the unveiling of the masterpiece of tonight. No, not Draco. Draco stood proudly as he watched Harry pull the cord that would draw the curtain away from his art and his mouth dried. Harry. He looked to Harry. This had to be a prank, right?

Harry was gone. Draco blinked in confusion. Harry couldn’t joke about this. It was a mean thing to do. 

“Down here, Draco.”

Oh. Harry was on the floor. That was normal. Harry’s strangeness was normal. But they weren’t in the privacy of their home. Why was Harry behaving strangely? Also, kneeling on the floor was not a yoga position that Harry did. Holding stuff in his hands weren’t part of yoga either. Especially a ring. Draco looked back up at the masterpiece. And looked down again. 

Oh. 

Ohh. 

Oh, Harry.

Harry was still looking at him hopefully and nervously. And Draco realised he had yet to give a solid answer to his boyfriend. Draco fumbled in the pockets of his suit jacket, retrieving the small, velvety black box from its depths and dropped to his knees before Harry. He was sure the pair of them looked a sight, both on their knees trying to propose to each other. Draco laughed at the ridiculousness of it all and took his proposal ring out of the box.

“Yes.” Draco was overjoyed. 

“Yes. Yes. Yes.” Harry was sliding the ring for Draco onto Draco’s finger.

“Draco, yes.” Then Draco was sliding the ring for Harry onto Harry’s finger. And there was cheering and clapping and someone popped a bottle of champagne for them. Draco dove onto Harry. 

Their kiss was a little messy and all teeth and tongue but Draco was so crazy in love with Harry that he didn’t care, because Harry was his fiancé now. Harry was his fiancé! God, he was so happy and Draco had to show Harry how happy he was with more kisses and cuddles. Cuddly Harry was the best Harry. And now, Draco had all of Harry, he was just so freakishly happy he thought he might just tear up a little.

A shared joy was double the joy wasn’t it? Draco had to share his joy with Harry. Always Harry. Only Harry could make him this happy. He scrambled off the polished wood of the floor and pulled his fiancé up, uncaring if the world saw him act in such a graceless manner. Who cared? He was just too happy. Draco’s brain just couldn’t think of anything but Harry and happiness. Happy was a synonym for Harry. The letters were even nearly all the same. 

“Come on, fiancé.” Draco steadied his fiancé with an arm around his waist. “Thank you everyone for coming to my fiancé’s art opening tonight. We will unfortunately be occupied for the rest of the month on an extended celebration. Starting from now. Good bye!” He somewhat yelled at the crowd gathered and tugged Harry out. The curator had enough foresight to arrange their transport so they didn’t have to wait. Draco made a mental note to tip her and write an excellent review. Shared joy was double joy, after all. And with Harry, the whole world could be happy too! Draco had never felt more generous.

“Come on, Harry!”

Harry had the most goofy smile on his face but Draco only loved him more for it. Draco had a talk with his secretary on the phone about their extended celebratory vacation as Harry undressed him with lots of kisses in the backseat of the car, while their chauffeur was under strict instructions to drive them home fast and safely. Draco wouldn’t risk Harry like that.

*

Harry had Draco pressed up against the door as he kissed the living daylights out of his new fiancé. 

“Off. Off,” he murmured, pushing the cloth off Draco’s shoulders as Draco frantically unbuttoned every button that was in the way. 

“Harry, I love you. I love you. Love you so much, Har— ” Draco swallowed a groan when Harry sucked lightly on the skin of his scrotum. Draco wrapped his fingers in Harry’s hair and tugged gently, knowing how much his fiancé liked that. 

“I love you too, Draco.” Harry replied and took Draco into his mouth. The hot wet mouth engulfing him had Draco yelling.

“Harry! Oh god, Harry! I want— Need you to fuck me. Fuck me now, Harry!”

Harry grinned and pulled off. Then pulled off everything else on Draco’s body and himself. “Anything you desire, fiancé,” he smiled wickedly. Draco moaned in anticipation.

A quick press of fingers and some spit later, Draco was begging Harry to take him now. Harry obliged. Draco did always like being in charge. He pushed in slowly. He wasn’t going to hurt Draco even if Draco demanded he go harder. 

“Mine!” he growled, when Draco kissed him hard. Harry lifted Draco off the wall, swallowing Draco’s cry as he sank down to the hilt. Harry lifted him onto the dining table, hips jerking hard enough to make Draco howl. “All yours, Draco. Take it!” Harry slammed in and Draco, arms clinging desperately around Harry’s broad shoulders, took it and gave back with the bucking of his own hips. 

“Wanna shag at the windows next?” Harry asked, when they had both climaxed on the dining table.

Draco laughed delightedly. “Give me five minutes.” Harry giggled with him.

“I love you.”

Draco didn’t bother hiding his happy flush. “I love you too, Harry.” And pulled him down for a nice, long snog before they started at the windows.

THE END


End file.
